Lady and the Swamp
by Kody Wright
Summary: To prove her worth a woman doctor must endure the antics of the swamp to prove to the army that women can do the job as well as men.  Continued from Hoodwinked.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**The Swamp**

It was surreal for Hawkeye. A woman was about to enter his domain. The Swamp was his. A place to come and unwind after a long exhausting shift. A place where he could kick back, be lazy and dirty. Scruffy and disorderly all in the privacy of his two companions. A sanctuary of sorts. A place far away from the carnage of war and the reality of his situation.

Now that sanctuary was threatened by a woman doctor. He really didn't mind women in medicine. He kind of admired the ideal. Even knew of certain head nurse whom he thought should have gone much further into medicine and perhaps even become a doctor herself. But never in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined such a scenario where he would sharing the Swamp with a member of the opposite sex and there not being a romantic undertone somewhere in the plot.

He stood in his sanctuary in his red bathrobe and straw cowboy hat. A glass in his hand topped with private stock of moonshine from the still. He glanced over at BJ Hunnicutt who was now cleaning up around his cot. Putting things neatly in place so the new doctor would at least feel some comfort.

He scowled at the sight. Now they would have to clean the Swamp which would actually subtract from the tent's character. He looked over at Charles who seemed unusually happy. Casually undoing his collar and cuffs of his shirt.

Hawkeye asked, "What is wrong with you two? Beege, stop cleaning. Charles why on earth did you agree that allowing a woman in the Swamp would be a good idea? And don't give me any of that equal rights crap either."

Winchester removed his shirt and held the article at arms length. He smiled ever so smug. "You my friend, you not seem to see a genuine opportunity when it stares at you right in the face." He let the article fall to floor. Shoving his hands in his pockets he looked back at the two. "Hunnicutt, stop cleaning. We have someone to do that now."

BJ paused and looked at the Major. Cocking his head to the side his mouth dropped upon realizing what Charles was suggesting. "You didn't!"

Hawkeye curiously asked, "What do you mean?"

Smiling like a cat that ate a prize bird the thoracic surgeon simply stated, "Women are naturally prone to keeping house. We are doing her a favor by allowing her to be a doctor in this…Wretched place. And she will do us a favor by cleaning out of gratitude. Genius!"

Hunnicutt snorted back. "No, sneaky! You're the one always telling me and Hawk to clean up. And now you are going to take advantage of a young doctor who happens to be a woman in order to have a personal maid."

Hawkeye took a gulp of booze and then looked around the tent. He suggested, "What if she doesn't want to clean this place up? Just because she's a woman doesn't mean she's tidy and neat. Besides, this is a man's tent. This is where we go to unwind and get away from the war. How are we gonna do that with a woman here?"

BJ shrugged. "Same way we unwind with Charles. He's close enough to woman."

"Funny Hunnicutt!" The major sneered.

"Why are you defending her so much, Beege?" He shifted his weight. "You like her!"

"Yes, she very nice young woman."

The captain grinned shaking his head. "That's not what I mean."

"Hawk, I'm a married man."

"So, you do like her?"

"As a friend," He insisted.

Charles held his finger to his lip. "That could be an issue for you, Hunnicutt. A young and attractive woman so close to your side of the tent. You a married man. Hmmm…"

"Stop it," BJ told him. "Yes, she is attractive, any man can see that. Which is why I've already secured a few dividing blinds from the supply tent. That way she can have some privacy when she changes clothes. Klinger should be bringing them over any minute now."

Glancing out the screen window Charles spotted a pair of white dividers used in secluding patients unsteadily being held above the dirt. Next to Klinger was the very woman who was turn the Swamp into glimmering jewel in Charles Winchester's mind. She walked holding a heavy case in one hand and a sack over her shoulder. Two nurses assisted with the footlocker in tow.

The young doctor enjoyed Klinger's company and found him very easy to talk too. Upon looking at the destination before her the expression of horror crept across her face. She gulped, "It's looks like a dump."

Klinger assured. "Don't worry. Frankie. If you need anything you can count on me."

"Smelling salts?" She asked.

"Smelling salts?"

"For when I pass out from the odor."

"Trust me it's not as bad as the nurses say."

"Huh, uh." She didn't believe him.

BJ opened the wooden door of the tent as they approached. He was the only one that actually seemed happy to have Frankie move in without some hidden motive. "Welcome to the Swamp, Dr. Peterman."

"Thanks," She gave a little grin to the tall man. She was fond of BJ Hunnicutt. His calm demeanor and gentle gaze always came across as warm and welcoming.

She looked up at Hawkeye who stood with his booze glass in hand. He took a sip and asked, "Martini?"

"I'll pass," She told him.

Winchester didn't want to see his new prize maid get too deterred before even starting work. He stepped up and even offered to take her heavy case. "May I help you with that, Dr. Peterman? Looks rather heavy."

"Oh, Yes. Thank you, Major Winchester."

"Just 'Charles.' After all we are all equals here."

BJ wanted the smack the man for he knew the diabolical plan the major was cooking. Using the situation to his own advantage to gain a free maid. He spoke to Frankie but directed his gaze to Charles. "We are all doctors here and we should treat each other like doctors."

"Of course," Charles smirked.

Klinger detected some tension between the pair. He tried to break the awkwardness with a question. "Where do you want this, Frankie?"

She plainly spoke. "Up that recruiter's ass!"

"Um," Klinger was still adjusting to the cursing Frankie was capable of. She could swear like a sailor. "How about over here?" He placed the two dividers by the cot. "They fold so you can make a little changing room right next top your bed."

"Thanks, Klinger." She looked at the Nurses holding her footlocker. "Please. Just put it anywhere. I'll take care of it. Thank you for helping me."

The two girls placed the footlocker near Frankie's new cot. One of the nurses whispered to her, "If these bozo's give you any trouble you come back to our tent."

Gently touching the concerned nurse's shoulder Frankie whispered back. "I'll be fine."

"Pierce can get a bit out of hand." The nurse warned her.

"Pierce isn't my type," Frankie told her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be okay." She walked the nurses to the door. "I'll keep you gals informed on how it is in here."

"Good luck," The nurse replied.

The pair walked off.

Klinger stood next to leave. He added, "Anything at all. Just let me know."

"Will do," She patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you got more things to worry about than me, Klinger." She guided him out the door.

He gave one last request, "If anyone of these three bother you. You let me know right away."

"I will, Klinger. Now go back to work. I'll see ya later in the mess tent."

"Lieutenant," He gave a hap hazard salute. "I salute you on this bold journey. Few have entered the Swamp and returned."

She paused with a crooked look. "I hope that wasn't to make me feel better."

He stood arms open wide, "It was just a joke to lighten the mood. Hey, Frankie! We got a talent show coming up. Wanna be in it?"

Normally she would have declined but everyone was so nice to her she felt that declining might offend the corporal. Hesitating she finally agreed, "Okay. Sounds like fun."

"Great! What do I put you down for? Poetry? Comedy? Singing? Music?"

"Um, just leave it blank for now."

"Tell me later?"

"Yeah," She agreed. Not really having any idea what she would do for this event.

Klinger scurried off leaving her alone with the trio.

Charles was rather busy studying the heavy case. His eyes grew wide. "Royal typewriter. You have a portable typewriter?"

"Yeah," She looked up as his smiling face. It wasn't a normal smile but rather one of mischief.

"You type?" The wealthy man seemed rather eager.

"Yeah, I can type."

"Really?" He placed the case down by her cot. "Do you take dictation as well?'

"Matter of fact I do!" Frankie began to wonder why he was asking so many questions. "I worked as a secretary when going through school. It helped pay some of the bills." She then wondered if she should have mentioned the additional skills. The Major seemed rather amused by the revelation.

"Would it be a bother if you could type some letters for home for me? Finding someone with a portable typewriter is such a rare treat."

"I suppose." Frankie didn't think the request was too much of a bother. She typed regularly for articles she would submit to publications and a manuscript she worked on as a form of stress relief.

"That would be wonderful." Charles replied. "It's marvelous to see professionals helping each other." He waved his hand, "Of course we don't need to type anything right now. Perhaps after you…Settle in?"

"Perhaps," She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. Something seemed afoot. "Of course supplies can get expensive. Ribbon and paper."

"I'll put in an order with Klinger," Charles stated.

BJ interrupted, "You don't have to type letters for him."

"Of course she doesn't. We are just two people helping each other out."

Frankie's mind could be as diabolical as Charles Winchester's. His tone of voice told her there was more than just a few letters to home he would be requesting. He even offered to buy paper and ribbon. Noting her own supplies were low and getting proper ribbon was difficult, she grinned back in agreement. "I would love to, Chuck. I'm nearly out of ribbon and paper. I need correction ribbon and good stock paper. It's rather expensive but I'm sure you can get the needed supplies. I'll just let Klinger know what I need."

"Perfect," Charles agreed. Money didn't seem like much of an issue for how much paper and ribbon could one type writer use? He no idea he was about to become her supply officer for her manuscript and articles. Pausing he asked, "Um, Chuck?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**CO Office**

Colonel Potter stood before his desk and looked Klinger and shook his head. "I'm too old to be in this shindig. I don't have anything to contribute."

Klinger being the everyday day salesman threw his pitch. "Neither do I, but I do have a routine for the two of us to do. It will be fun, Colonel. And the best part of it is you don't have to do anything really. Just stand up and stage in the mess hall and say a few lines."

"What?" He leaned over the desk with some suspicion. "And what are my lines, Klinger?"

He presented a piece of paper. "Here ya go, Sir. You play the part of Abbott. You know! Abbott and Costello's _Who's on first_? We'll knock'em dead, Sir."

He looked at the paper. The lines were all neatly typed out for him. "Who's on First? What's on Second and I don't know is on third? That routine?"

"Yes, Sir! Killer routine. We can dress up in baseball hats and shirts and just stand there doing this joke. It's easy, Sir."

He acted as if he was thinking about the proposal but in fact his mind was already made up. He loved the idea. It was adorable to the Colonel. Clean and fun. Easy yet complicated. Not wanting to seem overly eager to an enlisted man the commander slowly nodded his head. "I think that will be okay. We'll have to practice the routine on our own time though."

"Yes, Sir." Klinger knew the old man couldn't resist. "Thank you, Sir."

Out of curiosity the colonel wondered who else was in the show and what the routines were going to be. Though he approved the idea the details still eluded him. "So, other than yours truly, who else you got snookered into this little shindig?"

"Captain's Hunnicutt and Pierce. Father Mulcahy. Major Houlihan. Nurse Kellye and Frankie Peterman."

"No Winchester?"

"Not yet, Sir. But I am working on it."

"What are the volunteers going to be performing?"

Klinger rattles the info from off the top of his head. "Pierce is going to be doing Groucho Marx jokes. Hunnicutt has a poem he likes to read to his daughter. Nurse Kellye is going to be doing authentic Hawaiian dance. Major Houlihan and Farther Mulcahy will be doing a song together. I'm not sure what Frankie is gonna do. She didn't say."

"I'm sure she can come up with something," The colonel replied. "She's pretty talented."

**The Swamp**

Alone in the tent Frankie lay on the cot with a piece of paper trying to figure out what she would do for Klinger's talent show. She was stumped. She didn't really have any showcasing talent. She wrote articles and manuscripts. But never had any acting or singing skills. She scribbled on the paper and quickly erased as fast as she scribbled. "No, that's no good." She complained. "I can't dance, sing or play music. I'm musically stunted."

Major Winchester walked through the door. His eyes settled on the young tent mate with the paper and pencil. "Writing home?" He asked.

"No, I'm trying to decide what to do for Klinger's talent show."

He chuckled, "You actually agreed to that monstrous display of non-talent?"

"I thought it would be a good morale booster for the camp."

He glanced around the tent which to his amazement was still rather messy. Even her own section of the tent was not nearly as clean as he had imagined. "Well, I suppose it could be. Watching your tent mates make fools out of themselves is always entertaining."

"BJ is reading a wonderful poem he has for his daughter and Hawkeye has been boning up on Groucho Marx." She looked up at him and grinned. "Ya know that's not too shabby, Chuck."

"Chuck?" He wandered to his small area. Noting how his area actually seemed more organized than hers. This wasn't suppose to happen. Frankie was supposed to be clean and neat like him. She is a cardiac surgeon; similar to his own specialty. She was supposed to be a female version of himself…At least in the mind of Charles Winchester the Third. Instead she appeared to be blending into the décor of the swamp with relative ease. Out of curiosity he asked, "What is the condition of the nurse's tent?"

"Packed like rats." She told him. "Can't move. I gotta admit the Swamp has more room. The nurses have a tent only slightly bigger than yours and twice as full."

"Ah, I see. So, now you are just gonna spread right out like one of the boys? I always thought women were naturally more tidy than men."

"Where did you get an idea like that?" She chuckled. "We're not tidy or neat. Just better at disguising it."

"Oh," His visions of a live-in-maid were fleeted before his eyes. But never truly losing hope he wondered if perhaps he could mentor her into being his dream tent-mate. Slowly his mind churned up a new plan. Back tracking he asked, "Did you finish the letters I asked you to type for me?"

"On your desk, Chuck. I also placed an order with Klinger for some more typing supplies. He's gonna send you the bill."

"Very good," He picked up the neatly typed letters. Envelopes neatly placed with the papers. Addressed and ready to seal to be sent off on the journey home. Please with the secretarial work he smiled. "Excellent work, Lieutenant. I'll have Max send these out today."

"Could you do me a favor?" Frankie asked.

He paused and asked with caution, "What is it?"

"Could you give this to Klinger to go out too?" She handed him a legal size yellow sealed envelope.

He took the large package and looked upon it. Reading the address out loud, "Saint Mary's Medical Journal?"

"Yeah, I write articles once in a while for them."

Never missing a opportunity to be more than just Charles Winchester the Third, he graciously placed the package under his arm and meekly suggested. "Perhaps someday we could submit an article together to a publication?"

"Sure," Frankie nodded. "I was thinking of co-writing and article with the staff here at the 4077th and submitting it to the states for publish. You know. Life in a MASH unit kind of thing. Military medicine and all it's…Glory. For lack of a better word."

He smiled at the young and naive doctor. "Actually, I was thinking about an article more geared towards our overlapping fields."

"That would be boring," She told him. "I was thinking about an article for the general public. Not just medicine."

"Medical journals are far more prestige than the general public. It would really boost both our careers if we were to do an overlapping medical journal article."

She blinked and smiled ever so candidly. She knew what Winchester was trying to pull off. Himself dictating and taking credit for an article she would be writing solo. Shaking her head she found reason to disagree. "I think that would be too limited in audience. The American people have right to know what it is really like over here and not that glorified bull they get in film strips."

"Perhaps, after you write your little 'Life in the 4077th' piece then?"

"Maybe," She told him. "When you see Klinger tell him I will be doing an observation skit for the talent show."

"Observation skit?" He paused and wondered what that could possibly be.

"Yeah, observation skit. You know what that is, right? Come on, were from the same caliber."

"Of course," He lied. No idea what she was talking about but didn't wish to make himself seem less worthy than her. Though she seemed to be falling into the caliber of Hunnicutt and Pierce when it came to living conditions she was still a cardiac surgeon. "Will do."

She watched him leave and quickly turned over her paper. She wrote and spoke to herself at the same time. "You know you are a..."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Hours Later**

Ambulances and choppers poured into the camp. Wounded were filing in like a flood. Frankie had the other surgeons to help with triage and in the operating room. For the very first time she was to act in the role of surgeon along the side of Hawkeye Pierce, BJ Hunnicutt and Charles Winchester the Third.

She had assumed that with the other doctors at her side that her job would be much easier. For a moment it did seem easier. She was triaging patients and giving orders to Margaret Houlihan…Her commanding officer. The pair came across a chest wound. Frankie did a quick assessment. "He's gotta collapsing lung. Get him prepped. I'll take this one myself."

"I'll be your nurse, Doctor." The Major started to take over care of the young soldier.

The young man was fully awake though in serious trouble. He soon realized the young red haired woman was going to be operating on him. She didn't look like much of a doctor to him but rather like a young nurse. He protested, "I don't want you operating on me. I want a real doctor."

Frankie replied. "I'm cardiac surgeon. Rest assured, I am a doctor."

He tried fruitlessly to sit up, still refusing care. "No, I want a real doctor. Not you."

Houlihan tried to calm him down. Perhaps is was the blood loss and the shock brining him to this bizarre behavior? She gently tried to push him back down to a resting position. "I assure you, Dr. Peterman is a fine doctor. She's one of our best."

"She's not a real doctor. I want a real doctor. Not a woman."

Pierce heard the commotion. He scurried over to the man. Glancing at the wound and then at the two women trying to help the man. He asked, "What seems to be the problem here?"

"I don't want her to operate on me. I want you too."

"You have a collapsing lung. Dr Peterman is an excellent doctor." Hawkeye's fears of a patient rejecting Frankie based on her gender was now coming true before his eyes. He wished it was just a bad dream. He wished the whole war was just a bad dream. "You would be in the best possible hand with her."

"I don't want a woman operating on me. She's not a real doctor." He looked at his own bloody bandage. "I don't want to die because she operated on me."

The chief surgeon curled his lip in disgust. He could have taken Frankie's patient and gave her one of his own. But that only would have reinforced the mentality that a woman cannot be a good surgeon. Something he knew was a false impression. He leaned closer to the patient and spoke plainly. "Listen, you have a collapsed lung. You will die if no one operates on you. This woman happens to be an excellent cardiac surgeon. Me? Hell I'm just a meatball surgeon. It will make no difference if a man operate on you or if a woman operates on you. You will get the same surgery. And if I was in your shoes and I could choose my doctor…I would be choosing her out of all the other doctors here. So, if she is good enough for me and I'm the chief surgeon, she's good enough for you."

Frankie whispered into Hawkeye's ear, "Maybe it would be better if we switched? I don't want to make him more agitated. He's got a serious wound."

He whispered back, "Then you might as well pack your bags and go home now, Peterman."

She paused, "No wiggle room, huh?"

"Not in this game," Hawkeye told her.

"You mean that about having me as your surgeon? Charles would actually be more qualified for this type of wound."

He locked onto her green eyes, "I would take you over Charles any day, Doctor."

She gave a slight grin, "Thank you. It means a lot."

"Now get back to work," Hawkeye stated.

She turned towards Major Houlihan, "Get him prepped. Your operating with me today."

The Major nodded in approval. "You got it, Doctor."

**OR**

Charles Winchester the Third found the new arrangement not quiet to his liking. Though he was relived that Peterman was an actual surgeon and not a insane nurse he missed the role she filled as a nurse. Having the tools needed for the job waiting for him before even saying a word was heaven for the pompous man. He liked the fact that Peterman as his operating nurse made his job easier to do.

Now it was back to the old way. Back to having nurses that he had to dictate too. Nurses who did their jobs well but not well enough for a self-serving individual who enjoyed being waited on. What was even worse was now Frankie had stolen, in Charles point of view, his second favored nurse…Major Houlihan.

He glanced over and spotted the pair working rather diligently on a wounded man. They worked very well together. Though Dr. Peterman was a tad shorter than Major Houlihan the pair seemed to have matters totally under control. Frankie had even gone a step further than the other doctors by actually allowing Margaret Houlihan to do certain procedures on the patient under her supervision. Essentially giving Major Houlihan some surgical lessons. He looked over with a pitiful expression as it was plain to see that Frankie was trying to talk Major Houlihan into continuing her education and going into medicine as a doctor.

"That's a perfect suture, Margaret. You know why women make really good surgeons?"

She gave a slight grin. Suddenly it hit her. "Hand size?"

"Bingo!"

"Excuse me?" Charles asked from his operating table. "Hand size?"

Frankie grinned and shouted over her shoulder, "Women have smaller hands. It makes it easier for us to get our fingers into the affected area. We also have finer motor skills. We're better at tying knots."

"Ridiculous," Charles huffed. "I assure you my hands are just as good at tying knots as yours, Peterman."

BJ snorted, "Actually Peg ties better fly fishing knots than I do. When we would go fishing she always tied the knots for me."

"Surgery isn't fly fishing, Hunnicutt." The Major snapped. He then directed his attention to the ladies operating. "This isn't a class in a college, Dr. Peterman. Shouldn't you be more worried about operating on your patient than giving Major Houlihan surgical lessons?"

"This is a perfect learning environment," Frankie countered. "Major Houlihan knows the procedures and how to do them from watching all of you for years. She just fine tuning her skills. And the more skills a surgical nurse can acquire than the faster surgery will go." She than whispered to Margaret, "I think he's jealous."

She tried not to snicker. "What makes you say that, Doctor?"

"He seems a bit ruffled up." Frankie than finished the final suture.

"True, he does. Maybe he's afraid us girls will out perform him?"

BJ added from his station next to them. "Actually Charles is upset that he lost his two favorite nurses. You, Peterman…Turned out to be a surgeon and not a 'mind-reading' nurse, whom then took his other favorite nurse to operate with. So, he's tad bit put out."

Hawkeye was rather busy operating on his own severely wounded man. Though very busy he couldn't resist and potshot at Charles. Mocking in his best snobbish expression he added, "Just a tad. After all getting a surgeon for the price of a nurse is no laughing feat. It's like getting a Cadillac for the price of a coup. And then having your mechanic run away with your maid…In the caddy."

"Huh?" Frankie was a bit lost at the parody.

Margaret Houlihan then informed her. "Major Winchester's two favorite nurses to work with were you and me. Since we are now working together Charles is feeling a bit left out."

"Oh." Cocking her head around to see Major Winchester she told him. "Well, Chuck. If you ever wanna fill in as my nurse, I'm sure Major Houlihan will let you."

"Ha-ha-ha, Peterman!" He muttered under his breath. "She's as bad as Hunnicutt and Pierce."

"No," BJ told him. "Not just yet. But we're working on her though. I'm sure she will be as much of a pain in your rear as Hawk and myself in short time though." He looked up spoke to candidly to Frankie. "Won't-cha, dear?"

"I'm not sure I can actually reach that level of pain-ous in rear-ous, but I shall try."

"The prodigy is coming along!" Pierce rang out.

Colonel Potter found the chatter amusing but feared Frankie would indeed be influenced by Pierce and Hunnicutt. He had to give some warning. "As much as Pierce and Hunnicutt like having you under their protective wings and teaching you every bad habit they have…I do suggest you refrain from submitting to their shenanigans. Your every move is being recorded, Peterman. Pierce and Hunnicutt could get you kicked out if start doing the things those two get away with."

She nodded in agreement. "I suppose they could be counter productive." She then asked off hand, "Perhaps I should act like, Charles?" She then gave a mocking impression of the major. "I'm Frankie Peterman the First. What do you want peasant?"

Charles gave a not so amused look over his operating mask as Pierce and Hunnicutt each had a good chuckle. He remarked, "Too late."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Recovery Ward**

The doctors made their rounds as patients rested after the long hours of surgery. Recovery for the patients averaged a few days, then they were either shipped off to Tokyo or in many cases…Back to the front.

Prior to the revelation of the hoodwink, Frankie had the luxury of not making that decision. Now she had to make a choice. It wasn't a very pleasant choice to make. During her days a as a civilian surgeon when a patient was well enough to be released from her care they simply went home and rested. Today she had to chose who goes to Tokyo for further treatment. Who would go home and how would go back to fight.

Suddenly "grand rounds" weren't so grand anymore. Especially with the knowledge that whomever she sent back to fight could potentially be going home in a wooden box draped with an American flag. She wouldn't be releasing them to go home to rest but rather releasing them to potentially die. She wished she could send them all home. Every single one! However, that plan would obviously not work.

The first hitch in her plan to every one home would be the army would get suspicious when no one was left to fight their wars. The next hitch would be some soldiers actually wanted to go back to the front. The soldiers were very loyal to their platoons, their friends and their jobs. Yet, others would have given an arm and a leg, literally, just to go home. Sorting out who goes where was now based solely on physical wounds.

The doctors stood at the foot of Pierce's patient that Frankie had operated on during the food poisoning crises. He was doing much better. His blue eyes shined as bright as his smile. He was happy to be alive after being so close to death.

Hawkeye cheerfully stated, "Glendale, your going to Tokyo and then home. How you feeling?"

"I'm feeling great," The boy replied. "Thank you for saving my life, doc."

Hawkeye shrugged, "Don't thank me. Thank her."

Glendale's eyes moved to the petite woman standing next to Major Houlihan. "The nurse?"

BJ corrected, "Actually she's a doctor."

"Pretending to be a nurse," Hawkeye added. "Glendale meet Dr. Peterman. The first woman doctor in the Army."

"They let women doctors in the army?" He sounded dumbstruck. "Are woman allowed to become doctors?" His mind search for any doctors he knew back home that were female. He could think of none.

Charles replied for Frankie. "Too much surprise…Yes."

Frankie rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew letting Hawkeye, BJ and Charles defend her would be a mistake. For even though they were all members of the same gender their personalities dictated they could be from another planet as far as the young doctor was concerned.

She took a seat on the edge of Glendale's bed. Her left hand grasped his own. She spoke firmly yet softly. "Private Glendale. There are not very many woman doctors in the world. However, the few of us there are, have had the same training as any other men doctor. And there is no law that says woman can only be nurses. The same way there is no law that says a man cannot be whatever he chooses. Now, you have served you country. You are going home with your life intact. You can be whatever you want to be. I understand you have a little sister at home. When you get home and if she tells you she wants to be a doctor, a scientist or a lawyer when she grows up, you can tell her the story about what happened to you in Korea. And support her in whatever she does. That's all I ask for."

"I will," He promised.

She squeezed his hand, gave a slight nod in agreement.

Returning to rounds the group started to the next bed. Hawkeye whispered, "Well put, Peterman."

She paused and whispered back, "Your ironic. Ya know that?"

"How am I ironic?"

"You support me on whatever I do as a doctor but still flirt with every nurse you find. Ya know what I hope for in the future?"

"What?" He whispered unsure of her wishes.

"I hope someday there will be male nurses. Nothing but male nurses."

"Huh?" His mind conjured up male nurses. An impossible sight. One that frightened him.

"Flirt with one of them and I'm sure they'll deck ya."

"Very funny," Hawkeye huffed. "Mark my words…Male nurses will never happen."

They arrived at one of Dr. Peterman's patients next. It was the same young man who refused to let her operate on him because of gender. He glanced up at her with a scowl across his face. He was obviously upset. Frankie's fear was the man, despite being alive and well, was still upset that his surgeon was female. Her worst fear was about to come true.

Frankie started, "This is Corporal York. He arrived with a hemopheumothorax to the lateral right. Fracture to the seventh rib. Surgical repair of the upper pulmonary…"

The young man cut her off, "I said I didn't want you to operate on me. You did anyways."

She puckered in thought. Her eyes narrowed as she found herself becoming hostile to the very man she just saved. She began to wonder why she even bothered. Why she bothered to do anything, become a doctor or join the army? Especially when everything seemed like such a waste. She plainly stated, "If I had not have operated you would have died."

He balked at her statement. "Do you know who I am?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "I'm Theodore York. My Father is Harold York. He's a senator and boy won't he be surprised to find out I was operated on against my wishes."

Frankie crossed her arms and smiled. "Good, I certainly do hope you tell him. Cause I would really like to have a word with him about army recruiting practices."

He gave a cockeyed look. He still didn't seem pleased nor cared about the remark. "Once my father finds out he will have you decommissioned. You can't operate on my against my will."

Potter stepped into the debate before Frankie had a chance to answer. He stood firm before the boy. "Corporal York! I'm the CO of this little outfit. As much as you had such a choice in civilian life, you do not get that choice once you are in the army. I ordered her to operate on you. She had no choice. Same as you have no choice. So, if you want to tell your father you were refusing orders of the medical director in the MASH 4077th, by all means go right ahead. I'm sure he will find it most interesting."

Hawkeye backed up Potter. "She requested I operate on you to make you feel more comfortable. That idea was nixed. Now, she did a really good job patching you back up. She saved your life. If this is how you say 'thanks' well, then I wouldn't want to operate on ya either."

York challenged the ideal. "They don't let women docs in the army."

"It's a pilot program," Potter stated. "She's the first."

"Hopefully the last," York snorted. "I do not want some woman as my doctor. Nurses are fine but not doctors."

"Why do you say that?" Pierce wanted to know.

"Woman aren't as smart as men. They can't be doctors. That's a man's job."

Frankie cleared her throat. "Yes, I totally agree. A doctor is a man's job. It's hard work. There is a lot of learn and a lot of lifting and such. Matter of fact men would be much better at nursing too. They really are an I know just the man for the job. The 4077th also has a male nurse. Nurse Klinger would love to assist you. Right doctors?"

"Nurse Klinger sounds good to me," BJ grinned.

The group suppressed the obvious plan of action. If Corporal York was uncomfortable with Dr. Peterman being a woman doctor than he would certainly be uncomfortable if Klinger became his nurse. Adorned in a white nurses outfit, skirt and cap. He certainly would be an eyeful in his outfit. Klinger's previous quest to prove himself insane by wearing dresses was an obvious failure but his loyalty to his friends was unsurpassed.

Hawkeye smiled brightly and nodded as his mind began to churn up the plan. If the young corporal would only be comfortable with a male surgeon he would certainly find an all male crew tending to his needs insane. "Well, your in luck today Corporal York. For the Army Nursing Corps also just accepted their first male nurse. We will assign him to your bed."

"Male nurse! Is this some sort of joke?" York asked.

"Nope," Hawkeye stated. He glanced at Frankie for a moment. "It's a new trend. Male nurses."

Colonel Potter agreed, "Nurse Klinger will be assigned to this man."

Winchester nodded with much approval, "The best male nurse we have."

"But I want a woman to be my nurse."

Charles replied with the most sincere look he could muster. "I do not think assigning a female to you is such a good idea. It could do some damage psychologically after you were traumatized by this brute, Dr. Peterman. We should play it safe for your mental stability. You really need a nurse of the same gender. We should never have ordered Dr. Peterman to operate on you. That was our fault and we apologize fully for it. For now on we will take extra steps to ensure you never feel that uncomfortable again."

"Um…" York had nothing to reply. He wondered what a male nurse would even look like. He had no clue and could only assume the doctors were sincere in their claims.

Frankie normally would be assessing his breathing sounds but their plans to give him only male caretakers meant she was no longer his doctor. She waved to Charles. " Major Winchester is a surgeon who specializes in your type of injury. And since I'm no longer your doctor, I suggest he should become your doctor."

"Fine with me," York stated.

Charles looked at Frankie and spouted. "Why couldn't have given him to Pierce? I don't want to be his doctor. He's a corporal. I'm a major. This is beneath me."

"What?" The Corporal asked. He never expected that reply.

Potter sounded. "I'm the CO here and I will assign a surgeon to our special Corporal here. After all, orders are order." He glanced at the faces. Pierce shook his head no. BJ waved both hands in opposition. As if the group could read his mind for he didn't want any of his doctors to get wrangled up in what could be a political hot seat. Only he, himself, could take this patient. "Well, since no other doctor wants ya, son…I guess I'll have to do it."

York became rather baffled, "Doctors can't refuse a patient."

"Yes they can," Potter informed him. "Surgeons need to put the patient's welfare first. If a patient makes them uncomfortable and feel it will impede care they can rightly refuse to do it. And Corporal you have set a record. You are the first patient in the MASH 4077th that has actually made my entire staff uncomfortable. I will handle your case personally. For our sake and yours."

"Well, okay…I guess." The Corporal started to stare off in thought as he wondered what he just got himself into.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Mess Tent**

The line snaked through the tent too the entrance. Hungry men and women standing with metal trays and coffee mugs. Hawkeye and BJ flanked Charles as they mocked both surgeon and food.

Hawkeye pointed towards the buffet pan. "What is that?"

"Chipped beef," Igor told him.

"Are you sure it's beef?" Hawkeye wondered.

"Says so on the can," the cook replied. He held up and glob of goop in a serving spoon. "Sir?"

"I'll pass." Pierce replied. "So, speaking of passing…I noticed your plan to have a live maid isn't working out, Charles."

The image that Charles Winchester the Third had conjured up of a budding protégé who would bend to his every whim had indeed turned sour. Perhaps he was asking too much? For one person to be a maid and brilliant young surgeon under his wing did seem a bit over the top even to a mastermind such as his. Instead of having a young female surgeon to mold into an elegant, delightful, sophisticated doctor who would follow his every move he instead inherited someone who seemed to be more like a little sister to Hawkeye Pierce. She was just like him. Brilliant doctor...Slob and all.

He groveled as the goop landed on his tray. "Give it time, Pierce. It will take some time to undo the bad habit you had already taught my young protégé. Soon I will have her not only acting like a top rated surgeon but also presenting herself as such complete with make up, perfect hair and pressed uniform which will automatically spill over into the swamp. For once she rises to the level of a Winchester she will cease to be at your level, Pierce."

"Oh, my level?" Pierce miffed. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Charles."

"It is," he muttered.

BJ chuckled at the pair. "I can't believe it. Just a week ago you both wanted her sent away to psych hospital and now you two are fighting over Peterman like she is some sort of pet."

"Well, she kind of is." Hawkeye admitted. "She's our pet. And I'm not gonna sit back and watch Charles turn one of the best female surgeon I have seen operate…Into a little version of himself."

"Better a little version of me than of you, Pierce."

BJ snickered. "Will you two listen to yourselves? You're both acting like she's some prize baby sister who just got into medical school and both of you are gonna be her teachers."

"I would be a better teacher than Pierce," Charles stated. "I do not believe you or Pierce understand the gravity of the situation. This war will eventually end. And whether Peterman is actually transferred as a surgeon into the Army remains to be seen. However, in the private sector Peterman has the potential of having a wonderful career. Providing she gets the right contacts and presents herself at the level of a Winchester. Let's face it Pierce, she doesn't need to end up in some hick practice where her patients pay her in chickens. I am only looking out for her needs. Yes, I assumed she would be a bit cleaner but that is not the sole reason for letting her in the Swamp. She needs to be molded for her future job working with me in Boston."

Hawkeye called his bluff, "What you want is the recognition of being the boss of the first female surgeon in your hospital in Boston. You want the prestige that goes with that."

"As her boss and mentor I would naturally get such a recognition. Being the surgeon who brings the first and only female cardiac surgeon to Boston would be a plus."

The trio sat down at the table. Hawkeye munched on some bread as he retorted. "Yeah, well how do you know she even wants to be the first female surgeon in Boston? She might actually like being a doctor in a small town. Where she is paid in chickens."

"Cardiac surgeon you, Buffoon. Not just a female surgeon but a cardiac surgeon who will defiantly not want to be paid in chickens in some hick town working with some hick doctor like you."

Hawkeye jerked his head back, "Oh, well us hick doctors are so hard to come by. And patients pay me in kittens…Not chickens." As the words passed his lips Houlihan and Frankie passed through the door. He looked up at the new doctor. "Peterman, you like kittens…Right?"

She paused not sure what to make of the question. "Yeah! Furry, cute little kittens? Who doesn't?"

Hawkeye gave a conceded look to Charles.

"What was that about?" She wondered.

Margaret shrugged, "With those three…Your guess is as good as mine!" She glanced at the trio sitting and mocking one another at the table. She asked under her breath, "How are they treating you?"

"Well, Chuck thinks I'm supposed the be a miniature version of him. Hawkeye thinks I should be his kid sister and mock Major Winchester every chance I get. BJ is actually okay."

"Well, if they give you an issue you let me know. I really don't like having one of my nurse…Sorry. One of my girls in there."

"I don't know. I think this can be fun." Frankie giggled. "Pretty soon I should have Charles waiting on me. Hawkeye can take me golfing and BJ…He can just be cute."

"You like him?"

"BJ?"

"Obviously."

"How can you tell?"

Houlihan handed her a cup of coffee. She kept her voice low. "He's the only one you don't pick on. To be honest…When we all thought you were a crazy nurse…BJ was defending you."

"Really," the information did make her wonder. BJ Hunnicutt was always more well behaved around her compared to other two. Perhaps there was a reason other than her just being a woman in a man's territory. "He's married though."

"He is," the major nodded. "He loves his wife and little girl. But I think he also cares for you. Just be careful. I know how easy it is to get carried away out here…Trust me...I know."

The woman soon found themselves at the food buffet. Frankie asked, "What is that?" Pointing towards the chipped beef.

"Chipped beef," Igor replied with a spoonful.

She wrinkled her nose, "Sure it's beef?"

"I think so."

Her hand reached for a few slices of toast. "I guess it's shit on a shingle tonight."

Margaret shook her head. "Where on earth did you learn to swear like a sailor?"

"The priest at the charity hospital I worked at. Ketchup was 'cat shit.' Mustard was 'mouse turds.' Chipped beef on toast was 'shit on a shingle.'" She pointed to her tray as she spoke to Igor. "Plop that crap there."

The nurse giggled, "I can't wait to see the look of Father Mulcahy's face when finds out who taught you that."

"I can't wait to see the look on his face during the talent show." Frankie grinned.

"Do you plan on swearing like a sailor in it?"

"Nope," she snickered. "It's actually clean."

The women made their way to the table the surgeons occupied. Margaret found herself seated next to Charles while Frankie took a seat across from her, right next to Hunnicutt. She didn't intend to sit right next to BJ but found the arrangement enjoyable.

Frankie casually asked, "What's all this about kittens?"

Hawkeye explained. "Me and Winchester have a little disagreement."

"That's Winchester and I you buffoon." The snob corrected.

After throwing a smirk to Charles the doctor continued. "We were wondering if you would preferred to be paid in chickens or kittens."

Annoyed by the assumption Major Winchester intercepted. "We were discussing your future at the top rated hospital in Boston. As the first female cardiac surgeon…Under me of course."

Margaret gave a cockeyed look. "What? The whole reason we are doing this…Allowing her to even stay in the Swamp of all places is so the Army will accept women doctors. And you already have plans to make her into what…Some protégé?"

Charles looked directly at Frankie who was rather quiet. He tried to make his plan sound appealing to her. "I know the purpose of having a lady in the Swamp. And whether this works or not it would be to Dr. Peterman's best interest if she had an alternate plan. I don't think you realize that you could have a very lucrative career in Boston."

Pierce countered. "Frankie…You can work anywhere you want. You don't have to work under Charles in Boston. You could work for the charity, you could have your own practice…Heck, you could even work with me in Main. My old man would love ya."

Major Houlihan wasn't about to let these doctors derail Frankie's goals. It was too important to not just Frankie but many other women who would follow in her footsteps. "I understand it would be nice for Dr. Peterman to keep her options open. But this is more than just one woman trying to get the Army to let her in. Frankie could change the policy. She could open the door for a whole line of women doctors behind her. What she does right now could be historic. This is too important to toss aside and just take a civilian job."

Charles countered. "Ah, but as the first female cardiac surgeon in Boston it would also be historic."

BJ interrupted. "For that matter the first woman living in the Swamp is historic."

Hawkeye sheepishly grinned, "And many more to come."

"Ya wanna know what is really historic?" Frankie broke her silence. All eyes fell on her. "Right here. Right now. Look at us. A chief surgeon who prefers to wear a cowboy hat. A Major who is trying to bring some culture into the middle of nowhere in the mist of a horrific war. A head nurse who is more concerned about some poor sap who got hoodwinked into the ANC than her own self. A captain who has been torn from his family and must save lives of total strangers or go to jail. No one asked to be here. Certainly not these young men who keep rolling through in pieces. And you guys are worried about my future? I find that so amazing. I'm not the first female doctor and I certainly won't be the last. I'm just some nobody who made a mistake. And yet, you guys act like it's a big deal. It doesn't really matter if I end up in Boston or in some small town taking puppies for payment. What matters is what we do right here and right now. Cause this is historic. This unit. You are making history right now. This war will end and if I can open the door for other women doctors I certainly will. But the last thing you should be worrying about is what I will do if I fail here. So let's concentrate on not failing."

Awkward silence fell over the table. Major Houlihan slowly nodded. "Your right. Everyone has put themselves on the line. And if something good can out of this war. Than at least we will have that."

A smile crept across BJ's face. He patted Frankie on the shoulder. "That was well put." He paused for just a second. "And you know what else is historic?"

Frankie shook her head.

"Klinger, our first male nurse."

She held back a grin. Her curiosity got the better of her. "Did he really dress up in a white nursing outfit?"

"Cap and all," BJ nodded.

"Wow, that's quiet a scarifies he made just for me." The young doctor heard stories of Klinger gearing woman's clothing but wasn't sure if they were accurate.

Hawkeye shook his head. "I think he wanted to stretch his hairy legs."


	6. Chapter 6

_My apologies to Jeff Foxworthy. But I couldn't resist. _

Chapter 6

**Recovery Ward**

Corporal Maxwell Klinger hated the army. He hated being drafted and hated the whole idea of traveling clear across the globe to be some clerk in some MASH unit. He tried desperately to find a way out. He spent an untold amount of money on fine women's clothing to claim insanity. All of which turned futile.

But somehow donning the classic nurse's outfit to avenge the reputation of one young female doctor made the whole trip worth it. His attempts to escape the insanity by being insane now gave way to an attempt to create insanity just for pure vengeance. No one needed to be convinced of a con game but rather he just needed to make one sexist corporal a bit uncomfortable.

He stood at the foot of Corporal York's bed dressed in white from head to toe. His hairy legs accented by white pumps. A cap topped his black hair. He was sight for any state. Holding a wash bin and cloth Klinger shifted his weight. "Ready for your bath, York?"

The young man's eyes grew wide. Never could have he have imagined such a predicament. He pulled the covers close to his chin. "You're not serious?"

"Oh but I am," Klinger grinned. "Do you prefer lavender soap or spring flower scent?"

"Um." He looked around for anyone to help. But the other nurses had orders to let Klinger do most of the heavy duty work. They were to only make sure he remained stable. No doctors would work with him either. The commander would only maintain a civil report but not get very chatty as he would with other patients. With nowhere to turn and nowhere to hide the man gave up. "Lavender."

"Wise choice, York. But we only have army issue."

"Then why did you even ask me?" He demanded.

"Too see if you are paying attention my most precious student."

**Later that Evening**

The mess tent doubled as a gathering hall for the unit. Corporal Klinger had changed back into army issued clothing and had donned the hat of introducing the acts to his talent show he had been working hard to complete.

Hawkeye Pierce was the first officer to stage his act. Groucho Marx to the core. The act only a few minutes long but met with clapping and laughter; much to his own relief. For the last thing Hawkeye wanted to do was fail at imitating a man that he imitated regularly.

BJ Hunnicutt read a poem he wrote to his daughter. It was sad and thoughtful. Tugged at the heart strings and pulled tears from the harden group.

Margaret Houlihan had agreed to sing a duet with Father Mulcahy on piano. A grand old favorite from the days of fairs and playground.

Klinger and the Colonel had completed a little skit of Abbott and Costello's _Who's on First_. Regardless of their off timing is was a hit.

Charles Winchester the Third did opt to read a page from a page from Shakespeare in some vain effort to bring culture to the camp.

It was getting towards the end of the evening and only one act was left. Klinger still didn't know what Frankie meant by "observation skit." He had no idea what she was going to do.

The corporal stood before the crowd and introduced the final act for the evening. "Ladies and Gents…With out any further ado…Our final act for the evening. Dr. Frankie Peterman who will be entertaining us with an…Observation skit."

Hawkeye sat next to BJ and whispered, "What's an 'observation skit?'"

"I don't know," he shrugged.

Frankie paddled up to the stage area. She took a seat on a stool and faced the crowd. She sat and smiled for a moment as if trying to keep a private joke to herself. She talked to the group as if she was speaking to a friend. "Everyone had fun tonight?"

The heads bobbed up and down.

"Good! I really liked Klinger and the Colonel's act. They were really good. How about a hand for them?"

The audience clapped while the Colonel patted Klinger on the back.

"BJ's poem made me cry. How about all you?"

Charles answered, "Yes! Who knew Hunnicutt had such hidden graces?"

She nodded. "Rather remarkable." Looking about the room she then asked, "Anyone know what a redneck is?"

The audience was at a lost.

"The term came from the south where farmers working in fields would get red necks due to not having appropriate shading while working in the sun. Working all day in a hot sun anyone who thought ahead would opt for a large brim hat. A redneck is someone who displays some lack of forethought. I like to define it as a 'glorious lack of sophistication."

She waited to see if the camp still followed her logic.

"I'll give you an example. Say if you go to mow your lawn and you a find a car. You might be a red neck."

Charles huffed, "I image there are some 'rednecks' here." He looked directly at Pierce.

"Hey, I don't have old cars in my lawn." He shrugged. "I'm lucky if I have old lady's panties in my lawn."

"Well, let me give you some more examples and if any of these example apply to you; you might be a redneck."

She looked at her feet rather than Pierce as she started the list. "If your home is lovingly referred to as 'The Swamp.' You could be a redneck."

Charles snickered. "She got ya, Pierce."

"You live there too, Charles."

She continued, "If you sleep next to a still…You might be a redneck."

"Hah!" Charles pointed his finger at Pierce. "That's you. 'A glorious lack of sophistication!'"

Frankie continued, "If your idea of a fashion statement consist of pink long johns, fatigues and a straw hat…You could be a redneck."

"She got me," BJ admitted. "Hey! It's about comfort."

"If you live in a Swamp, sleep next to a still, your evening attire consist of a cowboy hat, red robe and socks…And your patients pay you in kittens…You really are a redneck."

Hawkeye hollered, "Okay! You got me. I can't be the only redneck here. Move on!"

She gave a nod and looked directly at Charles. "If you live in a swamp, with a still, and you go by a title, three names followed by first, second or third…You could be a redneck."

"Hardly," Charles rebutted. "I'm forced to live there."

Moving on in her list Frankie went to the next person residing in the Swamp. "If you're a doctor and you accidentally take a job as a nurse…You could be a redneck."

Laughter erupted as BJ stated, "She got herself."

Frankie kept a straight face as she went on. "If you double as the camp's holy father and the saloon's piano player…You could be a redneck."

Colonel Potter whispered. "She got ya, Padre."

The father admitted. "That's me."

She looked at Major Houlihan. "If your nick name consist of the words: 'Hot' and or 'lips'…You might be a redneck."

Her mouth dropped as Hawkeye Pierce found the joke to be hysterical. "Quit it, Pierce. Go sleep with your still."

Frankie continued on. "If your tent is designed for six people but you are living with twelve you could be a redneck."

Nurse Kellye spoke up, "They pack us in there like sardines."

"When pantyhose doubles as a dividing wall…You could be in redneck territory."

Kellye rebutted, "You hung yours up too."

Frankie nodded in agreement.

Pierce dared her. "Hey, do Potter."

"If you travel across the globe and find a horse…You could be a redneck."

The old man clapped. "Nothing like a morning ride."

"If your idea of a self portrait is a painting of your thumb…You could be a redneck."

Klinger whispered. "Sorry sir. She asked about your thumb painting."

"I can't deny it, Klinger. It's true." The colonel laughed in spite of himself.

Frankie continued. "If you are a cook and your name is 'Igor'…You could be a redneck."

Klinger stated. "At least she's getting enlisted and officers alike."

"She didn't get you yet, Klinger." Potter whispered back.

"Last but not least." Frankie gave a pause. "You know you are in a whole camp full of rednecks, when the hairiest man in the camp dons women's clothing to make everyone think he is insane and…It doesn't work."

Hawkeye asked. "Did she get Klinger or everyone else?"

"Both," BJ suggested.


End file.
